


Who Would Have Ever Thought?

by BrokePerception



Category: Worst Witch (TV)
Genre: Humor, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-02
Updated: 2012-06-02
Packaged: 2017-11-06 15:51:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/420622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokePerception/pseuds/BrokePerception
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who would have ever thought, to see Mildred Hubble again at Cackle's even years after having finished Weirdsister College?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Would Have Ever Thought?

Mildred Hubble unconsciously blinked, as the door to the familiar staff room flew open before her, revealing her former strict, exceptionally firm, and critical form mistress and potions teacher, Constance Hardbroom, sitting behind the desk still located by the window like she recalled of her time as a reckless teenage witch at Cackle's Academy, and the oh so many times she had visited this room for… necessary purposes, or had been summoned by usually HB herself to hear her retribution this time. HB still appeared just as scary, as in Mildred's memories. She looked almost entirely the same as then, too – tall, bony, and sour-faced. She still radiated the air of what she actually was, too: a very powerful and knowledgeable witch. Her black, waist-length hair had been pulled up in a bun on her head like usual, and she appeared to be wearing just another one of her forever narrow-fitting shiny black dresses, too. Mildred however guessed she must have begun coloring her hair. She thought it unlikely that anyone HB's respectable age wouldn't carry any gray hair. Of course she wasn't that old, but…

"Come in," Constance said, in the rather loud, unwavering tone she often used, interrupting Mildred's train of thoughts just like that.

And so, Mildred quietly walked into the room. As soon as she had taken a few steps nearer, the staff room door shut behind her with just a flick of HB's wrist. She gasped. Easy, Mildred. Surely, it was just ridiculous that even after so many years of having left Cackle's, and having reached this age, HB could make her feel about the size of a flea. HB still could succeed in scaring her, even though especially in the years at Weirdsister and after, she herself had become a quite powerful and capable witch, too. Maybe the memories of Mildred having been nothing of that in the years she had been a pupil here, and had been forced to see HB as her superior, had something to do with it.

"Please sit," Constance ordered, and she once again flicked her left, fine wrist to let a hard, wooden chair appear at Mildred's side of the desk. Mildred momentarily hesitated, before taking the steps necessary to reach it, and sitting down onto it. The sound of the staff room door opening again, immediately made Mildred's head rotate. She could see her former sports teacher, Miss Drill, quietly shut the door behind her, and look up at her with a smile.

"Miss Drill!" Mildred said, before getting up again. She failed to notice  HB rolling her eyes. Constance just wanted to get everything said, and done; she wasn't really up for the more emotional stuff like this.

Even though the fact that sweat was running down Imogen's face, and she carried a smell that made one think about a mixture of fresh sweat, and cold air and something else one couldn't put their finger on, Mildred leaned in to hug her. "Mildred, is that really you?"

As both women released each other, Mildred nodded, a smile forming on her lips, too. She hadn't been the only one who had grown older. Imogen Drill's face was a lot older than she recalled, even though it was hard enough to find any wrinkles in the face of the woman known to exercise every day of her life. It seemed a very good way to remain young. Mildred couldn't detect any liver spots immediately visible either. Imogen's hair had become slightly gray, though. Overall she too still appeared quite the same.

Davina Bat chose right that instant to leave her sanctuary in the staff room cabinet. The door cracked open slightly, revealing the insane chanting teacher of the Academy. She almost immediately threw her arms around the former Cackle's pupil, putting down a ridiculously good resemblance of a child excitedly jumping up and down when getting something new. Again, everyone failed to notice Constance's annoyed sigh. "Mildred!" Davina screeched. Everyone there, with the exception of Davina herself, immediately shut their eyes, and made some contorted face at hearing the sound that neared more the frequency of a bat than a normal human being. And then happened what everyone feared. "Let's sing!" Davina suggested, looking at everyone with a smile before heaving a very deep breath and... not beginning to sing. A flick of Constance's wrist had kept them from having to go through the torture. Both Imogen, and Mildred directed a secret but thankful smile at Constance, who didn't return it. Davina just looked insulted, and disappointed. Everyone wondered why she didn't choose to disappear in her dearly beloved cabinet again.

Mildred eyed her former chanting teacher up and down, too. She hadn't changed even one bit. Her fuzzy, grayish hair still very well resembled an oversized bird's nest. She still wore her eye-liner too thick behind her thin, rounded eyeglasses, and she still appeared to carry the very same color of lipstick than years before. "Hi, Miss Bat," Mildred said. "I'm… surprised to see you."

Davina just smiled, as Constance suddenly yet not unexpectedly at the same time, interrupted them three in her usual strict tone, "Could we get to business, please?"

Mildred looked up at the Headmistress again, then nodded, before sitting down on the chair she had occupied earlier, and listening carefully to what she was going to say. "As you could already read in the letter I wrote, Cackle's Academy unfortunately has to continue without Amelia Cackle. She has appointed me as the new Headmistress before…"

Merely the mention of the late Amelia's name was enough to move someone to tears. Behind them, the sound of someone blowing her nose could be heard. Mildred intuitively turned her head to see who it was, even though she already could have guessed. Miss Bat was holding a huge white handkerchief. She shivered, wiping her eyes off with the very same edge in which she had blown her nose before, but couldn't seem to care less. "Everything she cared for was the Academy, and its young pupils…" she sobbed, and Mildred wondered how she even could form any coherent word, let alone half a sentence, even though barely intelligible. "So tragic..." she cried, then turned around to go seek the quietness and loneliness her dearly beloved cabinet would give.

Constance's wrist flicked toward it, before she even had the chance, and thus Davina found herself unable to open the door. She pulled at it with one hand, then both, put one foot against the cabinet's other door, and clenched her teeth together to gather strength. "Imogen, could you take her down to the kitchen for a cup of Mrs. Tapioca's tea, or maybe something else?"

"Open… the door!" Davina screamed, then gave up panting, and gave Constance a very dirty look. Constance, however, wasn't up to be interrupted by Davina's muffled sobs, and the sound of her cabinet cracking as she did.

"Come, Davina," Imogen said, stretching an arm toward her colleague to lead her down to the kitchen for a cup of sweet tea as Constance had suggested. As soon as both women had turned their backs at HB and Mildred, one could hear the familiar sobbing of Davina again. Mildred watched as HB opened, then again shut the staff room door for them with flicks of her wrist. She could hear her sigh in relief as they were finally alone, with no chance of anyone disturbing them anymore… hopefully.

"Does Mrs. Tapioca…?" Mildred wondered, not even getting the chance to finish her question.

"Yes," Constance said, nothing more. "As I already told you in the letter, I am hoping to continue teaching potions. We are in need of someone adequate to teach spells now since Amelia is no longer with us, though. I must say, and I never thought I would, I almost immediately thought of you. Even though you were often hopeless as a witch in your days here at Cackle's, I do think that you would be fit to teach spells. There's however another issue that I haven't addressed in the letter. Cackle's Academy is in need of another Deputy Head. Since Imogen doesn't carry magic, and since Davina is, as we both are aware of – and have gotten to experience again earlier – more than just slightly disturbed, I was thinking about you as my Deputy Head. I'll most likely regret it, but…"

Mildred just looked at the former Deputy Head astounded. "Sure, but–" "Good. That's settled, then. Your first classes are in the afternoon," Constance said, easily letting Mildred's teaching schedule appear in her hands by just another flick of her wrist. "Now I have got still a lot of things to do before the girls arrive, so…"

"Yes, Miss Hardbroom."

* * *

Mildred's heartbeat was pounding in her throat as she waited for the girls to arrive, for her and their first spells class. She would teach the first years before dinner, and surely she was very, very nervous. She couldn't quite find a way how to behave. She again wondered why she had taken on this offer. Why, Mildred? She would likely still end up doing something wrong, and be yelled at by the new Headmistress.

Like that, the load of first year girls filtered into the classroom. Mildred immediately jumped off her chair behind the desk, and moved to welcome them leaning against it. She quietly crossed both arms over her chest to look more professional, and gingerly waited until the very last girl entered their classroom. "Would you–" she began, but noticed the effect of stress on her voice, and coughed to try swallow the squeakiness, before repeating, "Would you please be kind enough to close the door behind you if everyone should be here, …?" She questioned, looking at a girl with long red hair in a braid that reached her shoulder.

"My name is Clarence," she whispered, voice shivering.

Mildred was utterly amazed at the level of authority she appeared to have. She immediately uncrossed her arms, and put them both on each side of her, holding onto the edge of the desk against which she leaned. She never wanted the girls to hate coming to her classes, and think of her as as strict as HB or anything. "Right. Clarence," Mildred said, watching the girl carefully close the door behind her, as her teacher had requested, before taking a seat beside a girl with a fuzzy brown ponytail.

"Hi. So is this your first class at Cackle's, or did you already have another one?" Mildred questioned. She could already have guessed the answer upon seeing the girls' rather unhappy behavior in rows before her. "Alright, let me guess… You have had potions of Miss Hardbroom?"

The majority of the girls nodded. Some groaned. Mildred chuckled at that, before opening her mouth to say something, when the devil herself appeared right beside her.

"Mildred Hubble."

As had been the case while she had still been a pupil there, Mildred unconsciously jumped as the Headmistress appeared beside her. Every one of the girls seated into the classroom just gasped in shock at what they had just witnessed, and one even toppled over with chair and everything. Constance briefly flicked her wrist at the girl without even looking, and in seconds she was on her chair behind her desk again. Mildred would never get used to this ever, professional secret or not. She looked down immediately; it was just ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous how HB just mentioning her name like that, could make Mildred feel like a hopeless little witch again – just like when she had been a pupil. And she really hated it.

"Shouldn't you be teaching your class, instead of… elaborating over mine?"

"Y-Yes, Miss Hardbroom."

* * *

As Mildred lay in bed that night, she pondered over that day's happenings. Taken everything in consideration, her very first class of spells with the new first years had gone over fairly well. Maybe she would become a somewhat good teacher against even her own anticipations. She could see the orange, striped cat pad towards her, and leap on the edge of her bed.

"Hi, Stripes," she said, reaching to scratch behind the cat's ear with one hand, the other supporting her head as she lay on her side. The cat began purring almost immediately, and soon settled beside her.

Mildred's brow furrowed, as she thought of how the red haired little girl called Clarence had reacted. She wondered if it could have been the mere effect of having had one class with HB, or if she really had radiated authority. It hadn't been her real intention to scare the girls; not in the least because she recalled fully well how things had been when she had still been in their position. Constance had made her feel it again that afternoon. She never wanted to be another HB. Oh, well… She wouldn't fit in any of the Headmistress' narrow dresses either way. She laughed to herself in the dimness of the bedroom, rays of moonlight peeking its way into it behind the half open curtains being her only source of light, and making her barely able to locate colorless figures.

She sighed, wondering why she hadn't gotten married and had children of herself. Sure there had once been a time when it didn't even seem plausible that she would have another future than that. Looking back, she somehow didn't regret how things had turned. She was actually still a reasonably young age. It wasn't too late to meet her Prince Charming. It wasn't impossible, even though Mildred didn't have any hopes up. She didn't really miss it.

Never ever would Mildred have thought to be here at Cackle's Academy again, let alone as a teacher… under Hardbroom. She thought of Amelia. Amelia Cackle had been such a kind, loving woman. Suddenly, Mildred chuckled aloud, getting her cat to leap up, and look around itself wearily. Of course she should be here again. Whom else would save the poor witch girls from HB?


End file.
